Pirates of the Caribbean: Changing Times
by Sarala23
Summary: Maggie Knight is her sick, twisted version of normal. She has friends, books, family ... a life. But when a movie night with her friends go awry, will she choose what she had before or what she has now? Better than summary. Not a usual fangirl fic.
1. My OneWay Ticket To The Caribbean

**Hello! It's me, the author of this story! Obviously... Anywho, I know I probably should finish my other stories before adding this one, but honestly, I can't find the inspiration for them. I recently watched all three Pirates of the Caribbean movies, which I am now obsessed with. I _was_ going to wait until I'd finished a few more chapters, but I have a few spares. **

**Yes, this is a story where the characters go back in time, but it is much better than it seems. They won't go missing in their world, nor will time stand still. TIME WILL GO ON AS NORMAL! PM me if you have any questions about WHY this is.**

**Disclaimer: Why do I need this? Oh, right... People can be dumb. So I don't get sued, I'm going to tell you that I don't own anything other than Maggie. She's mine. But the plotline ... not so much.**

* * *

><p>If someone told you that they had met the real Jack Sparrow – sorry, <em>Captain<em> – you'd think they were crazy, off their rocker. However, I'm 99.9999999% certain that I'm not off my rocker, and yet, I have met a charming Mr Jack Sparrow. And I'm not talking about Johnny Depp.

Jeez people, I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Savvy?

My friends have seen him too. They can assure that I'm not mad, however I may sound.

Do you not believe me? Still? Then, perhaps, I shall explain in full.

My name is Magdalena-Rose Knight, but everyone just calls me Maggie. When this story started, I was thirteen, but that was quite a few years ago now. I was part of the craziest bunch of misfits that ever waltzed the halls of Ryerdale District State High, practically the group who everyone though was nuts.

No far off, really.

But I'm also the one who got straight A's, hadn't ever had a detention, wrote stories, all those things that seemed important then, but aren't anymore. That was _so_ going to change after …_ it_ happened.

What is _it_?

_It _is difficult to explain. The _it _story is r_eally_ long. So, make some popcorn, sit down, relax, leave all you troubles behind, 'cause when you hear _mine_, you'll think you are a spoilt, rich, masochistic, retarded brat.

But first, you must learn about the main "characters". Any good story has characters, and this story is a good one. I'll describe them as accurately as I can, because I myself dislike it when the characters are impossible to see.

Lacey Clairlit was brunette, a lively girl with wide light brown eyes and a British accent from when she lived in England. She played the clarinet, giggled just a little too much and was somewhat sarcastic (although I completely claim that I'm the reason she is – no good comes from associating with me). She had a little sister, Mia, and a little brother, Ben (I thought Mia was really cute, but I dunno whether she is now – I haven't seen them in ages).

Amelia (Amy, she preferred) Pond was a little short, with a long brownish-blonde braid, little or no freckles and bright blue eyes. She used her hands to get her point across and was dramatically funny, preferring to make people laugh by using words that were too grand and long for the situation. Her brother was rather disliked by us, but seemed to be unfavourably popular among the chimpanzees (aka the males) of the tenth grade. Like Lacey, she was musically skilled and played a really (not) cool instrument – the viola.

Katherine Roth detested her name. It was Kitty or nothing, for her (although, I didn't know why she insisted on it, seeing as we gave her so much shit about it then). She was shorter than Amy, with green eyes, dirty blonde hair and way too many siblings – five, in total. Kitty was also _way_ too loud, a trait which we found endearing while others found it … annoying. But we didn't think Kitty was that annoying, so it didn't really bother us.

The last friend I'm going to introduce is the one who was probably the craziest (not that that's changed). Her name was (and still is!) Erika Black. She had long brown hair, scotch coloured eyes (her mum joked that the reason her eyes were that coloured was because of her grandfather who liked to drink scotch) and really straight teeth from her braces (which she had gotten off at Christmas time).She had absolutely no coordination whatsoever (neither did I, but I didn't try to point it out all the time). And like Kitty, she felt the need to shout _all the freaking time_!

And with our characters (though I can't see why you'd call them that) introduced, we can get on with our very exciting story, about how _it_ happened.

**~M*K~**

It was ISLAP day, it was, when _it_ happened (International Speak Like A Pirate day, for all your dumb-arses out there). Me and my friends – the aforementioned Kitty, Lacey, Erika and Amy – had all agreed to dress up as pirates and terrorise the dear people of our utterly _tiny_ town. After that, we were to meet my Dad at the ice-cream shop so that he could take us all home – my home. We were all going to have a sleepover, where we would watch _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and write all manner of Fanfiction.

The five of us decided to sit down on some chairs around a table at the little shop, grinning and laughing as we recounted our stories. My dad, with his head of black-grey hair and rectangular glasses, bounced towards us only five minutes later.

'How did it go, girls?' he asked, kissing me on my head and sitting down at the table. 'Scare enough innocent townsfolk?'

Erika opened her mouth, the events of the day spilling out, generally boring the rest of us who already knew the stories.

'And then,' she gasped, mirthful tears streaking down her face, 'he ran away, screaming that we were the Devil in Spanish!'

'How did you know what he said in Spanish?' asked Dad, a frown on his face.

'Mr Knight, we make it our business to know all the insults out there, although, I confess, we know them so we can use them ourselves,' said Kitty.

Dad chortled. 'Because you're so funny, girls, I'll buy you all an ice-cream,' he announced.

What did we scallywags do? Well I'll tell you what we tough, God-forsaken pirates did.

We cheered!

'Hurrah f' the Cap'n!' yelled Amy.

'Aye t' that!'

Kitty ordered bubblegum, her eyes lighting up as the blue blob and accompanying cone was passed to her: Lacey and Erika weren't much different, both practically having fits when they chose their flavours (cookies 'n cream for Lacey, chocolate for Erika). A very anticipatory Amy ordered vanilla, which the shop keeper, John, handed to her with sprinkles since he thought her costume was cool.

And what did I order, you may ask?

'Little Miss Maggie, what can I get you?' asked John sarcastically. In case you haven't noticed, me and my friends knew John pretty well.

'I'll have … um … lemon gelato!' I told him.

He chuckled and rolled his blue eyes. 'Always lemon for Miss Maggie. It's a good thing you like it so much, because otherwise we would've had to get rid of the stock ages ago.'

'Hey! No one does that to Maggie-cream!'

'Maggie-cream?' he said, eyebrows raised as he handed me the chocolate-dipped waffle cone.

'Aye!' I exclaimed, waving my hands around like a drunk. 'The greatest flavour o' gelato e'er t' be invented.'

Another roll of the eyes.

'That'd be something only Maggie Knight would ever think of.'

'And ye may lay t' that!'

I took my ice-cream back to the table. Dad followed and sat down in between Lacey and Amy. I swept my eyes around the table, taking in everyone.

'How about I get some ice-cream tubs for when you girls are watching your movie?'

'Why?' I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Don't get me wrong, ice-cream can be awesome. But, there is a reason I prefer gelato: tubs of ice=cream are often closely related to – _shudder_ – pancakes, the demons of breakfast. 'Cause, you see, the tubs contain ice-cream, which is dairy, which comes from milk, which is a very important factor in a pancake mix. And no, I don't know that because I make pancakes all the time – I know that because I want to know what to avoid.

'So you can eat it.'

My friends were grinning like the idiots they were: Erika's mouth was stretched so wide I could see her tonsils and Lacey's eyes were as wide as the saucers her family made her place tea on.

'Yeah!' squealed Amy, jumping up and down like a little kid promised … ice-cream. Amy was thirteen then, too, by the way.

'Ok,' I announced, 'we shall have ice-cream. Now, go collect it my minion.' I made shooing noises to my Dad, who rolled his eyes in a patronising way and sauntered off to speak to John about the large ice-cream specials.

I grinned – ice-cream manipulating was fun!

'So, which _Pirates_ movie are we going to watch?' asked Kitty, tucking a strand of honey hair behind her ear.

'Do I really need to tell you, Katherine Eliza Roth?' I countered, and received a glare for using her full name, which, as mentioned, she detested.

'First one,' cut in Lacey, saving me from the wrath of the Roth. Wow, weird tongue twister. 'I've only seen the third, remember?'

'I still can't believe that,' said Erika, and she shook her head in mock disgust. 'You, by right, shouldn't be allowed to wear pirate's clothes since you haven't seen some of the best pirate movies of the century.'

'Oi, leave her alone,' I ordered. 'She is "under the jurisdiction of the King's Governor of Port Royal".'

Amy laughed while the others stared at me, Lacey blankly, Kitty and Erika with annoyance. I gave a giggle at their faces.

'Shut up with your movie quotes!' snapped Kitty.

'Ne'er!'

**~M*K~**

We were all set to watch the movie. Kitty was in charge of the popcorn, I was in charge of the movie, Lacey was in charge of the blankets, Amy was in charge of the soft drinks and Erika was in charge of us, lazily ordering us around my room.

'I don't see why you're not in charge of the movie,' I grumbled. 'It's my room, you lazy wench.'

'How dare you?' she said in mock anger, ruining the effect by giggling.

There was a banging on my door, followed by angry yells. All of my friends stared at it as if the bloody door had grown a head or something.

The banging grew louder, a pre-pubescent male voice booming, 'Maggie, open up now!'

'Yeah!' a high pitched girl's voice agreed.

'Ne'er!'

But Lacey had already gotten up and let the voices' owners into the room – my brother Zavier and my sister Savanna, the two most _infernal_ creatures in the world.

I am glad to say that Zavier looked nothing like me, and even though Savanna was practically my miniature clone, she had this creepy look in her eyes that I really wanted nothing to do with. Some would call the eight year old _cute_ but I'd call her _as scary as being doused in fire five times, stabbed in the heart, run over by a tank and ripped apart by angry bulls_. But that was only my opinion.

'I wanna watch _Pirates of the Caribbean_ too, Maggie!' exclaimed Zavier.

Savanna nodded, grinning gappily (her two front teeth had fallen out a week ago), and said, 'It's funny.'

'No,' I said in my snobbish voice. 'My room, my movie, my popcorn, my friends. Get lost, little losers!'

Zavier scoffed and sat down next to Kitty, who got up and scampered to the other side of the room as if he had a disease. Well, he did. It's called _Retarditis Disease_, and it's very, very contagious. But Savanna, she just huffed, turned on her heel and stalked out the room.

It took another five minutes to lift Zavier out of my room so we could watch _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_. By that time, Lacey had surpassed excited bouncy up and down and was currently dancing around, humming the movie's theme song (after I got really obsessed with the movies, I couldn't stop humming it under my breath all the time, to everyone's annoyance except the voices in my head, who had this habit of changing the song to the _Lord of the Rings_ theme).

Unfortunately, we had agreed to let Lacey pick out what we could wear during the actual movie when she had asked us, so when she held out the bag, we couldn't disagree. Very unfortunately indeed.

'You said I could,' she told us happily as she pulled out a long, lacy dress that was cream in colour. 'I picked out traditional bedclothes, like they would actually wear in the 18th century!' she added excitedly.

'Why?' I asked, hands flurrying around me, trying to show my annoyance in a way that was _not_ hitting her.

'Because,' she said, 'if you want it to be piratess themed, you also have to look at what those piratess' would wear if they were going to bed.'

'Yeah,' I agreed, 'a man's bed.'

Kitty said, 'We agreed to let her have her way with what we were going to wear as pyjamas. We'll just have to deal with it.'

'Why, in God's name, did we agree?' asked Amy, arms raised as if she were commanding the answer from the Heavens (which, knowing her, she probably _was_ trying to do just that).

'Retard,' Erika snickered.

'Loser,' Amy retorted.

'Pancake lover.'

'Wench.'

'Wash your mouth out!'

'Only when you do!'

Kitty, Lacey and I all watched in amusement. We only moved to stop the fight when they started to get violent and pull at each other's hair, which was even more hilarious – so much so that I didn't want to stop the fight.

'Jeez, you two are temperamental,' Kitty announced.

'Emphasis on the _mental_ part,' I told them, only to have said girls glaring at me. I laughed nervously. 'Parley?'

'Oh, shut up,' said Erika, but she was smiling, so I knew I was forgiven.

'Let's start the movie, shall we?' suggested Lacey. 'Otherwise we'll never finish it.'

'Aye, aye, Cap'n!' I mock saluted her, and then we rushed to our beanbags while I inserted the disc and pressed _play_.

Something was off as we all crowded around my television to watch as I skip past the very beginning so we could get to the menu. The screen seemed odd, glowing faintly. I frowned, skipping the ads. Finally, the golden coin on the screen appeared, as well as some dark music and the options. I clicked _enter_.

And the movie started.

Only, I was kind of right about something being off. Elizabeth was singing _Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life For Me_ as per usual, but her voice was fainter than I remembered - and there seemed to be two voices, not one. And the ship wasn't there.

I turned to my friends to point this out, but I could only see three of the four.

'Where's Lacey?' I asked. The three looked at me in fright, all three pairs of eyes wide and confused and terrified. 'What?' I demanded.

'Maggie, you're glowing, like Lacey was a few seconds ago - before she disappeared!' gasped Kitty. I looked back at the screen. The ship was still nowhere in sight.

'Where's the ship?' I asked. The girls shook the heads.

Then Amy gave an alarmed cry, pointing to me. I looked down: my body really was glowing! Glowing, not sparkling like those damned vampires from Twilight. I was starting to get seriously freaked when I felt a wrench in my gut and everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you like it? REVIEW!<strong>


	2. Seamstress?

**Hello, my lovelies. I got what I called a very good response from the last chapter. Four reviews:**

**To _Master Of All Imagination_: Thank you for calling my chapter awesome! Yes, I sorta do write tongue in cheek, because it's more natural, you know? And the Oc's - Yes, they are based loosely on people I know (although I suppose you've probably guessed that from awesomegrl77's review).**

**To _xoxoMyRealityIsFiction_: Thank you! I love it when people like my story! And no, I haven't heard of that fic, but I'll look out for it.**

**To _amy_: Thank you for thinking it's "exerllent". Lol. I've already said thank you to you in person, but I have one question: You really couldn't think of any name other than "amy"?**

**To _awesomegrl77_: Don't call me that for the 30 000 time! And I'm (not) glad you like your discription! It's not your discription, it's Erika's! Did she like it? You can't play the drums to save your life, btw. I won't neglect my other stories, thank you very much! You're one to talk! **

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Only own the OCs.**

* * *

><p>My lungs were burning for air. I tried to kick upwards, but the weight of my petticoat and back-fastening gown was pulling me down. The world was going black again, just like it had when that simply <em>awful <em>ship had blasted apart the merchant sailor's craft, the one Will and I–

Will! Where was he? I hoped he was alright. Knowing him, he wasn't drowning like I. He knew how to swim; a talent that was hard come by these days. Besides, he didn't have a petticoat and gown. Speaking of which, I started to regret putting it on. _If I just pull it off_, I thought, _I may have a chance_.

So I did. I pulled the once beautiful, now utterly soaked petticoat and gown off and left them there, finding it easier to kick to the surface than before in my shift and stays. In the process of kicking, one of my slippers fell off, and I found it even easier to kick, so I got rid of the other one.

And then my head broke the surface of the water and I gasped and spluttered, frantically attempting to keep my head up. I would've failed if it weren't for the fact that I spotted a large piece of wood floating not ten feet from me, a small figure lying unconscious on it. Instantly, I swam towards the piece of wood and draped my arms onto it.

'Will!' I gasped, somewhat happily, as I noticed that he was the small figure. Even though he wasn't visibly breathing, I could tell he was alive because I could feel his breath on my hand when I checked. We were both very lucky.

However, there was still a very high risk of freezing to death, as the air was chill and we wore wet clothes. And if we didn't die from the cold, then we would die from lack of food. All I could do was pray to God, Jesus and the Virgin Mary that we would be picked up by another ship that was _not_ one of those vile pirate ones.

They must have heard my prayers, because not ten minutes later, I heard a girl yell, 'Look! A boy and girl! There's a boy and girl in the water!'

'Man overboard!' came a shout. 'Man the ropes! Fetch a hook! Haul them aboard!'

And for the second time that day, everything went black.

**~M*K~**

I awoke to the sounds of distant thumping feet and loud yells. Everything rolled around slightly, giving me the indication that I was on a ship. I gave a small, unladylike groan that my Mother would have smacked me around the head had she heard it.

But if she had, she'd still be alive and I'd be living in that room I shared with my brother and sisters.

I investigated the room more, and realised that Will was lying down on the hammock next to mine. His eyes were open.

'Will? Where are we?' I asked.

He turned his head and told me, 'The _Invictus_. We're lucky to have been found. And you are lucky that there are two girls about your age on ship with some spare clothes.'

I blushed.

'Where are we headed?'

'Port Royal, Jamaica. The Governor is being escorted there and his daughter saw us in the water,' said Will.

'Thank God for that,' I said softly. 'So, we're going to live in Port Royal?'

'I suppose so,' shrugged Will. 'It's not like we can afford anything else.'

'No, that's quite true. Can we up and meet everyone?'

'Yes, I was just waiting for you to wake up before going.'

'Oh. Sorry.'

'It's ok,' he said with a lopsided grin. 'Just wanted to make sure you were ok.'

We two made our way to the deck, carefully jumping out of the crewmembers' way as they rushed around the ship. It was late afternoon, and the sky was blood-red, sinking below the horizon. It was a beautiful, peaceful sight, made even more so by the two girls singing a song at the prow.

'The blonde is the Governor's daughter Elizabeth,' explained Will, 'and the other one is his niece, Lacey Clairlit.'

'Lacey? Odd name, isn't it?' I asked. 'A bit like Lucy.'

He nodded.

'You two,' said a voice from behind us. We both turned to see a man wearing a formal uniform. His expression was distasteful as he eyed us. 'Governor Swann wishes to talk to the both of you immediately.'

'Of course, sir,' I said, curtseying and grabbing Will's arm as the man led us to the Captain's Cabin, where a portly man with a black wig sat. He indicated the two seats opposite his desk, which Will and I took gratefully. The escort bowed to the man (who I had deduced was Governor Swann) and left without as much as a nod towards Will and me.

'Well,' said the Governor, fingers clasped together, 'I assume that the two of you understand that we, meaning the Swann family and the Royal Navy, will find you a place in Port Royal once we get there: that is the reason for today's meeting.'

'Sir?' I said confusedly.

'You will be apprenticed Port Royal,' he announced. 'I think it shall be possible for you to be accepted by Mrs Forester, the Port's seamstress, Miss Knight. As for you, boy, Mr Brown is looking for an apprentice.'

'What does Mr Brown do?' asked Will.

'He's a blacksmith,' answered Governor Swann. He waved his hand. 'Now go. I have more stressing matters to attend to.'

I curtseyed. 'Thank you, milord.' I left the room, Will close on my heels.

'So,' I said as we made our way to the deck, 'it seems that you're going to be a blacksmith.'

He wrinkled his nose. I smirked. 'So it unfortunately seems,' said he. 'All I've ever wanted to be was a sailor, like my father.' He paused. 'Speaking of which, it seems I lost my medallion. You know, the one my father sent me.'

I frowned and said sympathetically, 'Oh, Will, that's awful! That was the only thing your father ever sent you. You must be ever so upset.'

He bowed his head. 'Doesn't matter,' he muttered solemnly. 'I'd rather have lost that than my life.'

'I suppose,' I said, sitting down on the top of a casket of liquor. Will sat down next to me. 'Do you know what could have happened to it?'

'Probably fell off.'

'Yes,' I murmured slowly, gaze fixed on the Governor's daughter, Elizabeth. 'Yes that's what happened.'

For a glint of gold in the girl's hand, something she was showing her cousin, had caught my eye, and I was almost certain that she had Will's medallion.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you like it? Can you do me a favour? REVIEW!<strong>


	3. Swords and Gowns

**Hello, again, readers. How are you? Good, I (don't) hope. JOKES! Anywho... I am very sorry for not posting anything for a while. I recently got back to school, and I also had a bit of writers block, for the 5th chapter, which I'm writing now. :D**

**Disclaimer time!**

**Madi: Hello! I don't own this, do I, alter egos?**

**Macy: No, she does not own this.**

**Maggie: I don't even own this, and its the story _I'm_ in.**

**Val: All rights are Disney's! I love Disney. My favourite movie is Pirates of the Caribbean, funnily enough. I think its coz Marie got us into it...**

**Allie: ON WITH THE STORY!**

* * *

><p><em>It was execution day for some very unfortunate pirates. Me, George, Jane, Mary, Mother and Father were all present at Tower Green for the execution of the men, who were all looking solemn and as green as the grass on which they trudged. Mary and Jane, the twins, were giggling, and George was talking to Father about the merchant company he would one day inherit. Unfortunately, that left me to my Mother's scrutiny. <em>

'_Magdalena, stand up straight, for Heaven's sake!' said she crossly. She tapped me roughly around my shoulders. 'Stop being so unladylike! It makes a bad impression on your Father and me.'_

'_Yes Mother,' I said softly._

_Jane giggled, which only set Mary off. The two fair-haired twins were very bothersome at times, I decided, but not more so than my blond brother. _

'_Magdalena, I shall introduce you later on to another merchant I know,' said Father. 'His eldest son would make a fine husband for you.'_

'_Father!' I hissed. 'I am but twelve years. Marriage would not be for at least another four years.'_

'_You will do as your Father tells you to!' Mother exclaimed. I rolled my eyes and my siblings giggled. 'As the eldest daughter of an important man, you will be a significant trading piece in company relations.'_

'_Yes Mother.'_

_It seemed that phrase was to be repeated constantly. In fact, it was one of the first things I remember saying, which is not an entirely pleasant thing to be saying all the time. But instead of complaining, I turned to watch the pirates' execution._

_The official read out a list of crimes. That alone took much time, and most of the crimes amazed me and my siblings – the crimes were all very far-fetched to me, but I knew that these men in front of me were capable of murder and more, so they were dangerous. In other words, I was excited to watch this hanging._

_The executioner stepped forwards, tying nooses around the necks of all four pirates. The drum beats got faster and louder, more exciting. Jane and Mary cheered. Faster, louder. More cheers. And then, with the final thump, the men were hanging by their necks._

_George and I applauded whilst screeching in eagerness. The twins were dancing some sort of twisted dance, a mix of waltz and volte. It was amusing to watch. My Mother smiled indulgently at the twins. I joined them in twirling around._

_I only stopped once I accidentally stepped on the foot on a boy, one who looked only about a year or so younger than me and we tumbled to the ground._

'_Oh, sorry!' I exclaimed, getting up. 'I didn't mean to!'_

'_That's ok,' said the boy quickly, trying to dart away. _

'_Hold up,' I said. I snatched at his arm, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes went wide with fear. 'T'is your name?'_

'_Will,' he said hurriedly. He tried to get away, but I only clung to his shirt more._

'_What is the matter, Will?'_

_I glanced around to see whether my parents were watching, but it seemed that the twins had created a diversion big enough for my family to not notice me talking to the boy, who had a very dirty face and too small clothes. His eyes darted around like he was cornered._

'_Naught is the matter, miss,' he said, then he fled._

_I frowned after him in confusion before it dawned on me; he had taken my purse! I gasped in anger, and then I made my decision. I raced after him. It took forever, as my dress was getting in the way of my running, and I was getting rather lost in the crowds that had flocked to watch the hanging._

'_Magdalena!' I heard my Mother shout. I ran on, ignoring Mother and trying to keep Will in my eyesight at all times. He obviously knew the streets well, as he navigated around better than I. But I was not about to give up any time soon._

_He was heading for a small, dirty house that had a door that was broken and hanging by the hinges. Will pushed it open, slamming it behind him. It took a small amount of time to open it after him, as it had somehow locked itself. But nonetheless, I managed to yank it opened and follow the thief up the stairs._

_It looked like an orphanage – an orphanage for adults. Heads peeped out of broken doors, murmuring started up and hands reached out, scaring me. I gave a screech, but didn't stop running. That Will boy was at the top of the stairs. I tripped again. My hands ripped at the banister, dragging me up again and setting me confidently on my feet._

'_Give that back, you thief!' I yelled. He didn't listen, just entered the first door on the landing. The boy smashed it shut just as I reached the top. 'Open this door and give me my purse back now!'_

_Fists banging on the door, I attempted to turn the knob, but it seemed that the boy really knew his way around the place – he had picked the door which actually locked itself. I rattled it a few times more. It was no use._

'_Please!' I called through._

'_William, who is that?' I heard a frail voice say. I stopped my banging. Then there was a click._

_And the door swung open._

_The sight that reached my eyes confused me. Will was running around behind the bed of a very sick woman. She looked haggard and thin, like she hadn't eaten in weeks. I instantly understood the situation – Will had stolen my purse in the hopes of buying something for the sick woman (who was probably his mother) to eat. _

'_Oh,' I said, stunned. _

'_Please, don't tell them what I did!' Will exclaimed. 'I only did it for my mother! Please!'_

_I nodded dumbly. _

'_What did you do, William?' the woman – who I now knew as his mother – demanded._

'_I … uh, well,' he stuttered._

'_Nothing, ma'am,' I said quickly. 'Me and Will were just playing a game, ma'am.'_

_Her eyebrows cocked in confusion. 'That's not what it sounded like,' she murmured._

_I laughed gaily._

'_We were acting, ma'am,' I assured her. 'There is naught to worry about.'_

'_Oh,' she whispered, leaning back in her bed. 'Run along and play, then, William. Be back soon, alright?'_

'_Sure, mum,' he said, kissing her forehead, and he followed me out of the room. We didn't speak as he led me down the stairs, nor did we speak as we exited the house. It was only as we reached the area in front of the gallows that he rounded on me, and said, 'Thank you. My mother would have been angry with me if she knew the lengths I went to keep her fed.'_

_I felt pity for him. Poor Will didn't deserve to have to steal and risk gaol to feed he and his mother. It wasn't fair._

_He held out the purse, but I shook my head. When he protested, I told him, 'Keep it. You need it more than I.'_

_He smiled gratefully, and a little guiltily._

'_I still don't know your name,' he said._

'_Magdalena, but I prefer Maggie.' I grinned a cheeky smile, which he returned with fervour. _

'_Well, Maggie, I think you should head back now.' He smiled more, but this smile seemed sad. 'They will be looking for you.'_

'_I'll sneak out sometime,' I said. 'And we'll be the best of friends, ok?'_

'_OK.'_

**M*K**

'Magdalena Knight, get your bum out of bed! Mrs Forester wants you to take a special order to the Governor's house!' came a screech from outside the door of my room.

I groaned slightly, tossing in my bed before pushing the sheets down and onto my legs. A sharp gust of chill wind had me snatching the blanket to my chin again, although it was only the slightest of pauses before the sheet was back at my feet and I was jumping out of bed. I tossed on a nightgown of my own making and threw open the door.

My best friend, Amelia Pond, was on the other side, tapping her foot impatiently. Amelia, or Amy, as she preferred to be called, rushed into my room the second the door was open, brown-blonde hair and blue eyes wild. Although she was about a foot shorter than I, she terrified me sometimes.

'Wuzzgoinon?' I mumbled. Amy whirled around my room, picking up my stays and grabbing my shoulders. I gasped in air as she tightened the stays around my chest and slipped on a petticoat and gown.

'Mrs Forester wants you to take some special orders to the Governor's house,' explained Amy in a rush. 'Hurry up, get your shoes. You have to be there before Miss Swann and Miss Clairlit wake up.'

'Why can't you take it?' I asked. Amy tightened a bodice around my chest.

'Because,' she said, with the air of one explaining something simple to a child, 'you know that house, and the Governor knows you. Besides, she wants you to go and I have something to do.'

I huffed.

**M*K**

I grasped the knocker with difficulty (I had two boxes balanced precariously on my arms) and knocked gingerly. I hated this place, because it reminded me of the house I lived in before I came to Port Royal. I had hated that house too, just like I had hated the frivolous life I led there.

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of supple leather shoes clicking on a polished floor reached my ears. The door swung open. A butler stood before me, a grand and welcoming look on his face.

'Miss Knight, wonderful to see you again,' he said smoothly, standing aside so I could enter. I did so in awe – as much as I despised the place, it was still beautiful and ornate. The butler closed the door and told me, 'I shall inform the Governor of your presence.'

'Thank y–' I started, but he was already gone.

I set the boxes at my feet, as they were getting heavy, and started to inspect the inside of the house. It was all _white, _which I suspected would be hard to keep spotlessly clean. The staircase curved gracefully and there was a small table placed in the centre of the room, accompanied by a vase of flowers. Everything was all very _pretty_, decidedly so.

It was annoying.

'Ah, Mademoiselle Knight, how are you?' said a male voice from behind me, and I spun around.

The Governor of Port Royal was a plump man who dressed in the most exuberant of fashions and wore a grey, curly wig. He had the look of a man who was both a serious and humorous person, with a twinkling light in his eyes. The Governor was always rather kind to me.

'I am well, sir,' I said, ducking my head politely. I bent down and gathered the boxes in my arms. 'I have your orders, sir.'

'Very well, Magdalena,' he told me. 'Bring them upstairs,' he added to a maid, who nodded and took the boxes from me. 'Can you wait here for a moment, Magdalena? It shall only be for a minute, then might you help Elizabeth and Lacey?'

Not that I had a choice. 'Of course, sir.' I gave him another curtsey as he turned and ascended the stairs.

It was but a few seconds later when an additional person knocked on the door. As before, the butler answered in his pompous manner, which, of course, annoyed me to no end. I couldn't see the person in the doorway, as the butler was blocking my view.

However, when he moved and I got a glimpse of the young man standing in the doorway, I gave a cry of recognition.

'Will!'

He grinned at me. I ran forwards and threw my arms around his waist in a hug. It had been weeks since I last saw him, and that was at the baker's shop when I'd run in to get some bread for Mrs Forester. We hadn't had time to talk then, only wave.

When Will and I were younger, I twelve and he eleven, we had met. I was a young lady, daughter of a rich merchant, and had attended a pirate execution. While there, I had bumped into Will, who then proceeded to rob me of my purse! I followed him, found him with his mother and demanded my purse back, but before I realised that he had stolen it to help said mother, who was very ill. It had blown over, and then we had become the best of friends.

We became even closer when my father had been killed when some rogue pirates raided one of his ships, and even closer still when my mother died of grief. My brother and sisters moved to my Aunt's house in Kent, but before they had, I had ran away to live Will's small bedroom that he shared with Mrs Turner, his mother.

We were more than best friends; we were family.

'I haven't seen you in ages!' I exclaimed. 'What have you been up to?'

'A little of this and that,' he said mysteriously. 'Am I to assume you've been busy as well, or were you just avoiding me?'

'Me, avoid you? More likely you than me!'

'True enough,' he said cheekily, to which I responded with a thump to the back of his head. 'Ouch!'

'Don't let your tongue run wild if you know there will be consequences,' I retorted bitingly. Then I changed the subject. 'Whatever are you doing here?'

'Governor Swann has ordered that a fine sword be made for Captain Norrington,' Will explained, shrugging in distaste of the Captain and indicating the long wooden box he possessed. 'Mr Brown has, yet again, drunk himself into oblivion, and the ceremony is today.'

'Of course he's drunk himself into oblivion,' I said, shaking my head. 'Will, you ought to take that vile drink from him. Doctors have proven that it may not be good for the soul.'

'There is naught that I can do,' said Will absently. 'If he wants to drown himself in his sorrows, then 'tis fine by me.'

I turned my back to him; why he insisted that he be so rude about Mr Brown was a mystery to me. Mr Brown had given Will a place to live, food and warm clothes, all of which is a blessing. I respected and loved Mrs Forester as if she were my real mother.

I heard a _clang! _and turned to see Will holding an undiscernible object. He looked mildly alarmed, looking this way and that to see if anyone (besides me, of course) had noticed. I giggled. Will looked quite relieved – until, that is, a pair of footsteps could be heard making their way to the entrance.

Exactly where we were.

His eyes wide, Will searched around for somewhere to hide the object. I gestured to a strange vase which contained some very fancy _umbrellas_. And that was where he dumped the little object of unknown origins.

He didn't straighten up in time for the owner of the footsteps – another tall, snobbish man carrying a tray – to swish into the room, a look of disapproval clear on his face. The man offered the tray of tea to Will and I, but we both declined, Will somewhat gracefully and I with a look of loathing that was directed at the man.

I wasn't very social, as you can assume.

Just then, the Governor descended the stairs with a jovial exclamation of, 'Ah! Mr Turner! Good to see you again.'

'Good day, sir,' Will returned, stepping forwards and placing his box on the little table. 'I have your order.' He opened the box to reveal that there was, indeed, a sword inside. A rather fine one, too (I only knew because I had seen the swords Will had made in the past, and they didn't seem as fancy as the one in the box). He took the weapon in his hands, laying it horizontally and presenting it to Governor Swann.

The portly Governor unsheathed the sword and inspected it. It gleamed dully. My friend seemed eager to provide an explanation. 'The blade is folded steel. That's golden filigree laid into the handle.' He hesitated. 'If I may?' he asked, hands out in askance.

The Governor handed him the sword. He balanced it on the forefinger of his right hand. 'Perfectly balanced,' he announced. 'The tang is nearly full width of the blade.' He then flipped it around, and re-presented it to the Governor, hilt first.

'Impressive. Very impressive,' said Governor Swann, who looked a bit alarmed at Will's casualness at flipping the weapon. He sheathed it and handed it back to Will. 'Commodore Norrington is going to be _very_ pleased with this. Do pass my compliments onto your master,' he added carelessly, not noticing the momentary shadow of annoyance pass over Will's face.

'I shall,' he said, a tight, fake smile plastered onto his lips. 'A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated.'

'Ah,' said the Governor, turning and beckoning me over, 'Miss Knight, may you tell Mrs Forester that the girls adore her gowns and that they are very thankful?'

'Of course, sir.' I curtseyed. My heart also flickered with temporary annoyance; it was as if no one realised that Amy and I also helped make the gowns.

'Miss Knight!' a voice exclaimed, and I spun on the spot.

Lacey Clairlit, the Governor's niece, was making her way down the stairs in an original Mrs Forester masterpiece. I had to say, my mistress was a clever one. She had chosen cloth of cobalt blue for Lacey to wear, and it suited her skin tone perfectly. I also admired the designs on the gown, which were silver threads made to look like curling vines. The sleeves were timeless, coming down to her wrists and ending with a V on the inside of her arms so that they looked like two leaves sown together. Poor Lacey looked uncomfortable, as corsets were tighter than stays and restricted breathing much more.

She came to a halt at the end of the stairs, grinning in a silly manner. I couldn't help but smirk in response, as Lacey Clairlit was a very nice girl, who loved to switch places at night with her maid, Jane, and come out into town with Amy and me. We had become the best of friends since I had arrived at Port Royal, and, by extension, so had Elizabeth, who was more subdued than her older cousin.

'How are you, Miss Clairlit?' I mocked.

'I am very well, Miss Knight. And you?'

'Splendid, my lady.'

She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the title. It was then that I noticed Elizabeth at the top of the stairs. i wasn't the only one, it seemed.

'Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning!' her father gushed. I glanced at Will, whose face was void of any emotion other than surprise and adoration.

The adoration was mirrored in Elizabeth's exclamation of, 'Will! It's so good to see you!'

Lacey and I exchanged disgusted looks. Honestly, could it _**be **_more obvious that they had feelings of a certain kind for each other? I mean, the way she was beaming, and his face scrunched cutely into that little look was so evident.

'I had a dream about you last night,' she continued, oblivious to Lacey rolling her eyes.

Will had the expression of a child being told that Christmastide had come early. 'About me?' he asked, somewhat wondrously.

'Elizabeth, is that entirely proper for you to–?' the Governor started, but Elizabeth cut him off.

'About the day we met, do you remember?' she asked, the content smile on her face growing larger.

He looked even more pleased as he answered, 'How could I forget, Miss Swann?'

Elizabeth leaned forward, a somewhat conspiratorial, warm smile sliding away the content one. 'Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?'

'At least one more, Miss Swann,' Will said, mildly crestfallen as he seemed to remember his manners. 'As always.'

The smile slipped off Elizabeth's face. It was now a cold, fairly stony look that she fixed him, and I couldn't help but think, _Ouch! That ought to sting a bit!_

The Governor didn't seem the least bit angry at Will for those words. Indeed, he actually congratulated the tactless boy! 'There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety,' he said jovially, but it also seemed a warning. 'Now, we really must be going.'

'Good day, Mr Turner,' said the Swann heiress in an unfriendly manner.

'Come along,' Governor Swann ordered. Lacey rushed from my side and to the Governor's, with nothing but a, 'Talk to you later,' murmured as she rushed by. She nodded her head to Will in acknowledgement.

Soon, the whole party had exited the large house and Will and I were left to stand in the doorway.

'Good bye …' Will said. And as the carriage left and the doors were closed and no one but I had a chance of hearing him, Will murmured, 'Elizabeth.'

I waited for a full minute, just watching the young Turner as he stood motionless. Then, as I became impatient, I dragged him by the arm down the lane to town.

'Well, well, well, don't we have problems with the female breed?' I smirked, raising my eyebrows at him. 'You know, that little thing you did with saying her name after she left was hopelessly romantic. Too bad she _didn't hear you!_ I mean, Will, honestly, if you don't tell her you love her, I (I'm also counting that Amy and Lacey will help with this) will murder you.'

'What are you babbling on about?' he asked, refusing to meet my eyes with his brown ones, which caused me to roll mine.

'How much you _love_ Miss Elizabeth Swann!' I sing-songed. 'How much you can't _bear_ to be apart from her!'

'Shut it!' he grumbled. 'I do _not_ love Miss Swann!'

I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. 'Of _course _you don't! That's why you definitely _weren't_ acting all hopeless-romantic towards her!' I slapped a hand to my head in mock self-anger at my fake stupidity.

'Oh, be quiet,' he sighed. 'Perhaps, I might have a … respect for Miss Swann, but that is all it is, alright?'

'No,' I said, shaking my head, 'not alright. You just admitted to feelings for Elizabeth Swann, the Governor's _daughter_.'

'I never said I had feelings for her!' he protested.

We were starting to enter the more busy part of Port Royal, the area of town that sold the necessities, like food and clothing. I almost got knocked over three times by the same man. That's how chaotic it was.

And I loved it.

'You basically admitted you did,' I pointed out. '"A respect"? Please! I know you, William Turner. You are in heart with Miss Elizabeth.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm not going to argue with you–'

'Yes! I won!'

'–because I know you won't let it go.'

'Oh, dear William,' I said in a high pitched voice, hands over my heart, 'you're so chivalrous! Kiss me, William, kiss me!'

'What are you doing?' he asked, seeming grossed out.

'Pretending to be Miss Swann,' I replied instantly, 'because she loves you probably the same amount, if not more.'

He scoffed, as if to say that wasn't possible. 'Miss Swann is a lady. Ladies do _not _go around asking men to kiss them.'

'WHAT DOES THAT MEAN I AM, THEN?' I shrieked. Everyone in the market turned to me, alarmed looks on their faces. I smiled nervously. 'Don't mind her,' Will called, 'she has a … problem.' He indicated his head, for which he got a punch in the arm.

'Ouch!' he exclaimed. He glared, and suddenly I was being dragged by my upper arm. 'What was that for?' he hissed.

'Being a prat, calling me insane and insinuating that I wasn't a lady,' I huffed.

'You aren't a lady – when you were fifteen I taught you sword fighting,' he said. I pouted, because he was right; I _definitely didn't_ want to be a proper _lady_. It all involved gowns. 'And besides,' he added, 'you can't stand corsets.'

'Touché,' I conceded. 'But that doesn't mean I want my best friend shouting out that ladies don't ask men to kiss them. That makes me seem like a whore.'

'I wasn't to one to shout out, you were,' he said, arms folded across his chest.

'Oh.'

'Yes, Miss Knight, you journeyed on a violent rampage for barely anything.'

'You still insinuated I was a whore.'

'You _are_,' he said.

I shrugged. 'I'm not particularly virtuous, I'll admit. But I'd never think of letting a man have me. That would be … ew.'

'Please don't! You're like a sister to me and hearing your … exploits makes me want to hang myself,' he told me, shuddering in a very Will-like way.

'Alright,' I smiled. 'I shan't talk of it no more.' I strolled down the street, linking my arm through Will's.

We loved to act like a couple, because of all the "scandal" it caused. Many people had their minds in the gutters, I'll tell you. Why would Will and I have a relationship? It baffled me to no end. It was like a brother trying to sleep with a beloved sister: dirty and incestuous. But, the villagers of Port Royal really had nothing better to talk about than love lives and who could possibly be bedding who.

Honestly, it's enough to drive a person mad.

'Well, _William_, I think I have the day off. What about you?' I asked.

'Mr Brown is dead drunk again, _Magdalena_, so no one would notice my absence,' he retorted. I gritted my teeth and slapped him around the head yet again.

'Watch your tongue!' I warned him, reminding me of my mother.

'How about we go get something to eat? I didn't break my fast this morning,' he told me.

When I nodded, he dragged me into the bakery, where old Mrs Smith was chattering about her son coming to visit from England. We got some nice bread and cheese, which we ended up eating at the docks, our feet swaying inches above the water. After that, he took me to the sweet shop, where we spent our shillings quickly.

It was a beautiful day. That was, at least, until the news of an escaped pirate got out.

Will and I were about to head back to the blacksmith for a little match of swordplay when military men in red coats and holding muskets ran passed us, shouting out orders and such. I frowned, thinking, _What in the world could that be about? _Will, the ever practical one, grabbed a soldier by the arm and asked him, 'What the bloody Hell is going on?'

'A pirate threatened Miss Swann,' the soldier answered irritably, before yanking his arm from Will's grasp and storming after his comrades.

Will gaped. I seized his right hand, the one which was still raised, and contented myself by hauling him to the door of the blacksmith's. I lifted the latch, and I was the one to close it once we had crossed the threshold.

Something was off as we entered, and it was quite obvious what.

For some unknown reason, the donkey (whose name was Burro) was walking in terrified circles, spinning the above wheel. In all honesty, I had no clue what it was called, as I worked for a seamstress, not a blacksmith. But I, somehow, was the one to calm the poor beast down while Will checked on Mr Brown and took off his jacket.

The aged blacksmith was, as Will usually put it, "in a drunken state that he will probably and most likely die from". I liked Mr Brown, but even I knew that if he continued on this path he'd be dead within the month. Which Will hoped for.

'Right where I left you,' I heard him say. He seemed partially resigned. I was still calming Burro down when I heard him say something else. 'Not where I left you.'

I turned to see him studying a hammer that was left lying around. I frowned, as Will was not one to leave his tools around. For a man, he was surprisingly neat. He reached out a hand to grab – a hat? It was a black leather tricorne, something which I had never seen before. Sure, I'd seen a tricorne, but leather? Not so much.

Will was an inch away from touching the tricorne when the flat side of a sword rapped once on his knuckles. I gasped and Will jumped.

For there, right in front of our eyes, was a man. He was particularly dirty, his clothes mismatched and weather stained. He smelt like he hadn't bathed in weeks, months perhaps, and his hair was a matted mess of brown dreadlocks (although, if brown were his natural hair colour, I wouldn't have been able to tell, as he was that dirty). His brown eyes were lined with dark kohl and he carried himself with drunken arrogance.

And he looked ever so like … a pirate.

* * *

><p><strong>And now you have met Jackie dearest. Did you like it? Maggie was a bit of a slut in here, but she's not the sort to let men boss her around. She might not remember everything, but her temperament is practically the same. REVIEW! I SHALL GIVE YOU A SPECIAL CHAPTER ... AND A COOKIE!<strong>


	4. You Never Should Annoy Me

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while - school, reading, choir. Bloody annoying, that last one is. I finished reading _The Price of Freedom_, a PotC extra book. So awesome. **

**Anywho. I wanted to tell you'll about another new fic. Yes, I know, I know, but this one'll take longer and I promise I won't post it till its almost finished. There are three positions open for OCs of any gender or ethnicity. For further details, read the bottom of my profile page.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

* * *

><p>The man began to stalk forwards, his blade poised at Will's chest. I was frozen, stunned, standing by the little donkey that was so cleverly named Burro. I was not so clever, as I was thinking about a <em>donkey<em> while my best friend was about to get impaled by a big metal stick.

_Think, Maggie, think!_ my little voice yelled. _Will needs you! Do something unprecedented! _

Unprecedented? What, in the name of the Lord, could I do?

'You're the one they're hunting,' stated Will, backing off the more the man came closer. 'The pirate!'

The man (or pirate, as Will had seemed to have established) cocked his head, frowning a little. 'You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?'

'I make a point to avoid familiarity with pirates,' stated Will in a calm voice. Only, I could tell that it wasn't calm at all. He was probably seething with rage because the man put his precious Miss Swann in danger. Am I the only one who realises he has particularly strong feelings for the Swann heiress?

'Ah,' said the pirate. 'Well, it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record, so if you'll excuse me…' The man ignored Will and stretched back for his hat.

Dear, blessed William. My, how he can keep a clear head in the face of danger is beyond me. He pivoted around to his right and snatched one of his swords up from its place. The Turner boy then pointed it at the pirate. Oh God, he was so _dead_.

'Do you think this wise, boy? Crossing blades with a pirate?' the pirate asked, taking a small swagger forwards.

A look of resolute determination fixed itself on Will's face.

'You threatened Miss Swann,' he accused. The pirate smirked.

_Uh, oh._

The pirate ran his blade along Will's, up and down slowly so that the metal sang an awkward, rusty song.

With a twitch and a smirk (the smirk seemed plastered onto his dirty face), the pirate answered, 'Only a little.'

And then they started to fight.

They were reasonably well matched, the pirate probably a shade more skilful, even though Will matched his moves with deadly accuracy. One bout had Will stepping back a step. Another downward slash from the pirate equalled yet another step backwards. Will slashed backwards and forwards in what I assumed was just he being desperate.

They stopped momentarily. 'You know what you're doing, I'll give you that,' said the pirate. 'Excellent form. But how's your footwork? If I step here … very good.'

Somewhere during this demonstration, I realised that the pirate didn't actually know I was there. So, me being Maggie Knight, I tried to use that to my advantage.

Well, Will did promise some swordplay.

I ran to the great forge in the corner of the shop, neither of the two men noticing me. Then I heard _thwack!_ It turned out that Will had thrown his sword the length of the shop and into the door, therefore preventing the pirate from escaping.

Will had just discarded his weapon. Absolutely splendid! The pirate yanked a few times on the quivering blade that had successfully locked the door, but to no avail. He looked a bit like that monkey in the zoo.

He turned around, smirking.

'That's a wonderful trick,' he said. He began to walk onto a large piece of wood. 'Except, once again, you are between me and my way out. And now,' he explained, unsheathing his cutlass, 'you have no weapon.'

I have no idea was possessed me to do it. In fact, I doubt God himself can explain my bizarre actions against this man. I was partially stunned that I did it; half of me wanted to run away, and the other half was pumping with wanted adrenaline – at least, I think it was wanted.

I had reached behind me, and from the forge seized a sword the Will had only just made, its tip glowing a bright orange. My only thought was to distract the pirate with the blade's presence (I wasn't going to use it) so Will could snatch up a sword and end his duel with the man. But, it seemed, my instincts had taken over, and my blade met his.

His eyes widened in surprise. Sparks flew everywhere.

'Maggie!' exclaimed Will.

I ignored him.

'Let it go, girl,' the pirate persuaded. 'You can't beat me. Just get out of me way, and I won't hurt you.'

I giggled. Yes, I know, super heroic. But just the thought of this rum-soaked pirate actually hurting me was comical, even though I knew he could do it. Besides, the man was swaying alarmingly, and it was amusing to watch him stagger around.

He rolled his eyes, and I used his distraction to strike, trying to put pressure on the hilt so that he would drop his cutlass. It would've been a good move if he didn't know so much about swordplay, and, though he seemed shocked that I had even gotten in a blow, he parried with ease. He raised his eyebrows, and then he really started to push me.

'Maggie, what are you doing?' shouted Will.

'Well, you said we were going to have a match of swordplay!' I yelled back at him. 'Would you mind helping, you sack of potatoes!'

The pirate used his left chain (I now knew why Burro was moving) to wrap around the blade of my weapon. I squeaked, and ran towards Will, pirate right behind me.

Luckily, the sack of potatoes had taken a weapon, and promptly started to fight the man.

They were fighting around the cogs and wheels, which were turning, for some reason. Will's sword was knocked out of his hand, and he instantly snatched another one.

'Who makes all these?' the pirate asked, gesturing wildly to the gleaming swords.

'I do! And I practice with them – three hours a day!' Will answered, dodging a hammer that the pirate sent his way.

'You need to find yourself a girl, mate,' the pirate stated. They battled around, Will now possessing two swords and the pirate holding a hammer in his left hand while fighting with his cutlass. Suddenly, they were locked into an X shape, the blades above both their heads.

'Or, perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is because you've already found one,' said the pirate, 'and are otherwise incapable of _wooing_ said strumpet.' A small pause, then, 'You're not a eunuch, are you?'

I stifled giggles, and nodded my head. What the pirate said made sense (the incapable of wooing the girl of his dreams part, not the eunuch part, though that was humorous). Of course Will would practice three hours a day to impress Elizabeth, whose main suitor was a Commodore of the fleet.

'I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a _pirate_, I can kill it!' yelled Will, and suddenly, with an 'Ah!' from the pirate, they were fighting again.

I ran over to Mr Brown. The old man was _still_ unconscious, which I found quite unbelievable. But, then again, Mrs Forester's husband was drunk one time and he didn't wake up till the morning after next, no matter what Mrs Forester did to wake him. I had a feeling Mr Brown wouldn't wake in time to do something useful, so I grasped his empty bottle and ran over to Will and the pirate.

He had Will at gunpoint, his pistol aimed at Will's face.

'You cheated,' announced Will.

'Pirate.' There was clanking at the door, which both men noticed. Will danced over so that he was covering the only other exit. The gun trailed after him. 'Move away,' the pirate demanded.

Will being Will, I'm sure it is possible to guess what his answer was. 'No.'

'Please move?' the pirate said, whining a little.

'No,' Will repeated. 'I cannot just step aside and let you escape.'

The pirate sighed and cocked the pistol. 'This shot is not meant for you,' he said cryptically.

Only, the problem was I didn't register that he had said something, and I swung the bottle into the back of his head. He fell forwards slowly, not even making a sound. Mr Brown plodded over, eyebrows furrowed in drunk confusion. He took what was left of the bottle from me

That was when the guards and soldiers managed to bash their way through the door. There were shouts, and then Captain Norrington (obviously now a Commodore) stalked over to us.

'Excellent work, Mr Brown. You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive,' the Commodore announced. My jaw fell open when Mr Brown said, words mushed up a bit, 'Just doin' my civic duty, sir.'

Little bastard!

'Well, I trust that you will always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow _almost _escaped,' announced Norrington, as if he were sharing a particularly funny joke. 'Take him away.'

So the man's name was Captain Jack Sparrow. I had heard stories about him from my father's merchant days, stories that weren't generally known. He used to be a sailor in the employ of the East India Trading Company, but that was before he had freed a cargo of slaves. I also overheard a rumour that he hadn't actually been a pirate, but was forced to be one once he got branded with the pirate brand. He vanished from the eyes of seven agents of the EITC and sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot.

This man was legend.

They dragged him away, not even bothering with chains as he most definitely wouldn't wake up any time soon. Norrington gave us a sneer, then left. Very soon, it was only us three and Burro in the room.

Mr Brown swayed, then he was on the floor, passed out drunk. Will raised his eyebrows at me, as if daring me to go help the drunken blacksmith. I rolled my eyes and stalked out of the blacksmith's workshop.

Poor Mr Brown would wake to find a very big bruise on his forehead.

Well, you never should annoy me.


	5. Burning

**So, this is more of a filler. I know, her emotions may not be protrayed very well in this... or is that the next chapter? I think it's the next. Whoops. Anywho, these are the review replies:**

**You-Know-Who Voldermort giggle - You really couldn't come up with a better name, huh? You want your cookie? Sorry, mum ate them all. Literally. I had this massive bag and she ate them. But do you want chocolate from the Ekka instead? I'm sorry about the windows thing D:**

**awesomegrl77 - You can get Ekka chocolate too. I don't have any cookies. Sigh. Man, I have problems with procurring cookies, don't I? Thank you for your thoughtful review. However, YOU DESERVED IT! IT WAS FREE HIT AND YOU GOT ME BEFORE! Yeah, it does mean donkey, but this is in MAGGIE'S P.O.V. It has to seem dumb, especially when she's concerned - you can't have your characters understanding more than your readers. **

**xoxoMyRealityIsFiction - Unfortunately, I got that from Lizzie's speech. That was written before I read _The Price of Freedom_, which, by the way, I don't know whether you've read. I suppose no one does put his history in there - although, your hat idea was ingenious!**

**Peoples, if you haven't already, read xoxoMyRealityIsFiction's story, the Price of Freedom. It should be in my favourites, but if it's not, she's in my favourite authors list. She is awesome!**

**This chapter is split four ways: xoxoMyRealityIsFiction, for being supportive, kind and random ... ish; awesomegrl77, for being there; amy, for lighting up my day with her _insane _emails including her cactuses; and you peoples who are actually reading this, who are making a insane person a thousand times happier. Can't make it without youse.**

**Disclaimer: Me? Own _Pirates of the Caribbean_? Are you talking to me? Oh, you're not? Oh, that's ok. Coz it's true!**

* * *

><p>By the time I got back to the seamstress's, it was already dark out. The sun was sinking below the clouds, making everything bathed in gold and pink light. The air was chill and I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around my chest to lessen the coldness I felt.<p>

'I'm back!' I called. Amy came bouncing into the room, a pincushion in her right hand and a bolt of silver satin in her left.

'You were out later than planned,' she accused, poking me with a pin.

'Ouch! Do you have to?' I glared at her, but she just shrugged and said sweetly, 'I'm guessing you lost track of the time, hmm? Out with William?'

I groaned. 'Oh, not this again,' I snapped. 'When will you get it through your thick skull that Will and I are something akin to siblings. And there's the fact that he's obsessed with Miss Swann.'

'Really?' shuddered Amy. 'What is it with men and obsessions? Ew.'

'You can be a baby sometimes, Amy,' I told her, rolling my eyes. 'Men are always obsessed with something or another.'

She shuddered again. Poor, naïve Amelia, who believed that the storks delivered babies (not actually, she was just an innocent kind of person), couldn't bear to hear about disgusting men and their infatuations. Amy always did act like that, though.

'Maggie, is that you?'

A woman in her fifties came into the room. There were barely any wrinkles on her aging face. Her blonde hair was streaked with grey, and her eyes were as blue as the sparkling ocean. You could really tell that Mrs Forester had been more stunning when she was younger, just tell by the way she held herself.

'Maggie, where were you today?' she asked, a frown furrowing her brow.

'Out,' I replied lightly, to which she raised an eyebrow. 'With Will,' I elaborated. 'I haven't seen him in a while, so I thought I would take my day off.'

She looked amused.

'I thought the employer was to _know_ you were going to take a day off before you took it,' she teased lightly, ruffling my blonde curls.

I shrugged, smiling, and answered, 'You must be psychic to know when I will take a day off, Mrs Forester.'

She just rolled her eyes and walked back out of the room.

'Then, using my psychic powers, I know that you are dying to cook dinner, Magdalena-Rose,' she called over her shoulder.

I cursed. I hate cooking.

**~M*K~**

'Ha, ha!' yelped Amy, dancing around me in circles as I prepared the night's meal. 'You have to cook! You have to cook!'

I grumbled, feeling ready to smack a pan onto her head if she didn't close her mouth soon. She had been chanting it for the last hour or so, ever since Mrs Forester had told me I was to cook for the night. T'was getting quite annoying.

I sighed – annoying was a favourite pastime of Amelia Pond, and it seemed (most unfortunately, in my opinion) that such a favourite pastime was not going to be replaced anytime soon. Now _that_ was something I wished for every day since I came to Port Royal.

I didn't wish to have my silly family back, like Will _always_ suggested. That was his greatest desire: for his father to be home, and his mother alive, and for them to all be a happy family. I knew him well enough to know that he would always desire that.

But I?

I coveted something that women of this time never really had – freedom. A chance to do as I willed. That was my deepest want.

And you know what?

Sometimes, I believed that I _had_ been free, once. It was but a distant dream to me, one that I could not remember, no matter what I did. It was like a word on the tip of your tongue – you wouldn't be able to know what it was, and it would come to you at the strangest of times, when you didn't need it and least expected it.

Only, it didn't come to me. I would lie on my bed for hours at night-time, trying to delve back through my memories of a strange time that couldn't have existed, memories that were as clear as muddy water. I would only hear a song, a catchy tune. It reminded me of swords clashing, the sea and a man, a man who looked remarkably like Captain Jack Sparrow.

I was musing too much, I realised as I smelt the stench of burnt vegetables reached my nose.

**~M*K~**

'And I was thinking that I could make you a pretty green dress, Maggie,' beamed Mrs Forester. I smiled at her eagerness to make me something beautiful (for that was what all her clothes were). 'It would go with your tone splendidly. Oh, and silver stitching!'

'Thank you, Mrs Forester,' I giggled.

Amy pouted.

'Oh, but never think I'd forget you, Amelia,' insisted Mrs Forester. Amy brightened. 'I was thinking pale indigo with white lace trim. How does that sound?'

It sounded boring. That was what dressmaking was. Boring. You had to have a certain amount of patience, and I just could not seem to find any. But Amy was rather keen in this subject, even if she'd prefer to run around like a street urchin.

We were in the little drawing room above the shop and opposite mine and Amy's bedroom. I was sitting cross-legged by the fire at Mrs Forester's feet, a tiny, brown mouse hidden in my hands.

The mouse's name was Renny. He was only a year old and already was (aside from Will, Amy and Lacey) my closest companion. I had saved little Renny from the wrath of Mrs Smith, who had found the mouse's family hiding in her flour sack. It had taken a lot of time for the tiny mouse to trust me, and even more time to train him not to be seen nor heard, as no one except for me was fond of the small, intelligent creatures.

Mrs Forester was working on Jennifer Blakely's wedding dress, and it was exquisite so far. It was pure white, with a white lace trim and gold beads sown into the bodice. Jenna Blakely (the milliner's daughter) was to be married to Joseph Smith (Mrs Smith's nephew) in just two months!

I was a little jealous that twenty year old Jenna had found a husband before I had, but I shook off the jealousy easily, because I had long known that to be a married woman would be to give up whatever small freedom I had now – and I was positively drunk with my freedom now.

Amy was humming to herself, working on Jenna's Maid-of-Honour's (Betty Wallis) gown. I heard Amy give a gasp as she pricked her finger with the needle, and the thirteen year old Maggie half-wished for blood to drip onto the dress, as Betty was not thirteen year old Maggie's favourite person.

It was so boring just sitting here.

'Maggie, can you stop humming that song! It is making me insane!'

'What song?' I asked distractedly, gazing into the flames of the fireplace.

'Never mind,' sighed Mrs Forester. Then she gave a shriek. 'Maggie, what have I told you? That mouse is _not _to be brought anywhere _near_ the shop, the house or me!'

'Oh, but please Mrs Forester!' I cried out, tucking Renny into a pocket of my shift. 'Renny has never done anything wrong! He was almost killed, Mrs Forester!'

'And rightly so,' said Mrs Forester sternly. 'Mice are disgusting little animals that eat our precious wheat, Maggie, and are the carriers of illness. Get the mouse out of this house!'

Amy giggled at the rhyme.

'Renny is clean! I bathed him yesterday in the well,' I said, gesturing towards Renny's clean fur. 'And I scrubbed him and brushed him so that he would have silky fur. I promise!'

'Get – the – mouse – out!' hissed Mrs Forester.

'No,' I said stubbornly. 'If Ren goes, then so do I.'

'Maggie,' sighed Mrs Forester in exasperation. 'Whatever are we going to do with you?'

I smiled, but frowned suddenly at a booming sound outside the window. I rose to look out of it, and was horrified (and terrified) by what I saw.

'Pirates!' I yelled, running back over to the two by the fire and yanking Mrs Forester's arm. She stumbled out of her comfortable chair while Amy put out the fire. The room was plunged into darkness, and I hissed, 'What are you doing?'

'If it looks like there's no one here, they might not bother,' she squeaked.

'Amy!' I whispered harshly. 'They'll come anyway, and all you've done is made it harder for us to see the way out.'

'Sorry,' she sobbed.

'Hush, girls,' murmured Mrs Forester. She moved away from me, and in the moonlight, I could see her reach for a lamp and strike a match.

A ghostly light illuminated her pale face, and we instantly huddled together.

'What's going to happen to us?' asked Amy shakily.

Mrs Forester bit her lip. 'I haven't got the slightest.'

'I hope we don't die,' said Amy.

I hoped that too, but it was then that I realised that there was other people in town, and they probably needed more help than three frightened seamstresses huddled in the drawing room. And everyone probably knows what I did, what the brave, fearless Maggie did next.

I sat Renny on my shoulder, allowing him to hide in my blonde locks. Then I flung open the door, running up the staircase to my room, Amy and Mrs Forester hissing for me to come back.

What I needed was under my bed. It was beautiful, and I thought I was very lucky to be receiving it at all. The blade was almost as good as the one earlier today, and it had been made by the same hands – hands that had taught me how to wield it (even if I was hopeless at swordplay).

Then I was out of my room and flying down the stairs, a screaming Amy at my heels.

'What do you think you are doing?' she screeched as we ran through town.

It was a living nightmare. There were people lying dead or dying on the road, and others were milling around, screaming and yelling and generally not doing a thing to help themselves. The pirates ran from place to place, killing all they could in their path and looting mercilessly.

All in all, a usual sight for the townsfolk of Port Royal.

'Bloody Hell!' shrieked Amy, ducking a blow from a nearby pirate. I swung the sword, and the blade caught him in the chest. Amy stared at me. 'I want lessons.'

'You can have some if we live tonight!' I yelped.

She beamed. 'Awesome!'

Odd word, that one was, but I thought nothing of it. I stole the pirate's cutlass from his hand and gave it to Amy, who just stared at it as if it was a piece of rope and she didn't know how to use it.

'Amy,' I said, giving her my smile that just said I thought she was a three year old in disguise, 'you swing it at the pirates. Help me!'

'This is insane!' she screamed, wailing a war cry about fat pigs. She proceeded to cut a man in his back and stab his face, which I thought was utterly disgusting, but still very amusing.

I heard a scream, and I sheathed my blade. There was a little boy of roughly two years, blonde and squawking, obviously terrified. I then heard a creaking sound, and looked up to see a piece of wooden construction about to fall on the young child. I ran forwards, scooping him into my arms.

'Bloody sodding Hell!' I hissed. The child was still screaming for his mother, so I quickly wrapped a hand over his mouth, quieting him down. 'Shut it, or you're dead,' I hissed. His eyes went wide. 'Now, if you will gladly _shut it_ and _stay here_, you'll be fine.'

He obviously had no idea what I was saying, and I probably only just scared the thing if the renewed sobs were anything to go by. _Dumb child_, I cursed in my thoughts.

'Shut it!'

And I left him there.

Perhaps it wasn't the kindest of things to do, but I considered my job done the second I pulled the thing into my arms and saved him – needless to say, I wasn't all too fond of children. There were other people I cared more about that needed my help, the most helpless of which being Mrs Forester.

Mrs Forester! No! I left her there! I darted back up the road, rushing as much as I could to get back to the seamstress's. All the pirates were mulling around, striking the innocent, exploding stores and other such manner of cruel commotion.

I hoped I wasn't too late. It was possible that the pirates had gotten into the seamstress's, or that the explosions could've brought down the structural supports that held up the building. I really hoped not.

A sudden creaking caught my attention: Will, sweet, stupid Will, was being held by the neck by a pirate who had an axe up to his face. _Wait, creaking?_ Then I noticed the sign above the two falling and the mystery was solved.

I continued my running, hitching up my shift so my feet had room to stretch. _Please, oh please let me get there on time_, I thought. People jostled me as they raced to escape, going in the opposite direction. The thudding of my feet got more frantic, more desperate.

And then I stopped.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Amy, too, her eyes wide, mouth open in a little "o" of surprise and horror as she gazed at the flames licking the wood of the store. Both of us were seeing but not seeing the mass of burning red that was once our home.

'No!'

I was barely aware that I was moving forwards. Thin arms wrapped around my waist, holding me back as I screamed. I heard a whisper of, 'Sorry Maggie, but it's for your own good…'

Then everything went black.

**Am I the only one to have noticed that Maggie has gotten knocked out way too often? Maybe I have to knock someone else out. Nah, I like knocking her out, especially in the extra special chapter that is far in the future. Remember that one, Fiction? wink*wink*nudge*nudge.**

**Next time on Pirates of the Caribbean: Changing Times...**

_'William Turner, what do you think you're doing?' I demanded, locking the door behind me and crossing my arms. He sneered at me, then went back to packing, snatching a sword from the rack._

_'Going to save Elizabeth.'_

_'I told him he's mad,' Amy said, eyes wide. 'The pirates would cut him down in an instant, and that's only_ if _he can_ find _them.'_

_'I'll take my chances. Besides, I will find them.'_

_I stared at him incredulously. 'How?'_

_He smirked and pushed me aside, clicking open the lock of the door. Then he turned back, crossed the room again and picked up two blades. He threw one to me and the other to Amy._

_'Jack Sparrow.'_


	6. That Wasn't It

**Hello! I'm back again. For those of you that didn't know, my laptop went AWOL on me, and all of my documents were inaccessible. This chapter was interesting to write, and it includes a deleted scene. Now, some of the insults in this are used in present time, but they actually were used back in the 18th century, according to _The Price Of Freedom_ book. Please, review! I haven't got enough yet! **

**This update is in honour of International Speak Like A Pirate Day, which is today in Australia.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own**

* * *

><p>If you've ever been hit across the back of the head by the pommel of a sword, you'll know how annoying it is. If you haven't, I don't recommend it.<p>

I came to the morning after Amy smashed me around the head. There was a throbbing feeling behind my right ear and, as I sat up, the world seemed to tilt a little bit. I swore and clutched my head. _Worse than a hangover_, I thought-groaned. Amy's face swam in my vision for a second, then my eyes adjusted.

'Son of a bitch,' I swore at her. She grinned weakly.

'Couldn't let you die, now, could I?'

My eyes narrowed.

'I could have saved her!' I exclaimed. Amy's expression grew solemn. 'Why didn't you let me save her?'

'Maggie,' said she softly, 'it was already too late. The house was coming down and …' She let out a breath. 'We – meaning some of the town boys and me – managed to put the fire out two minutes after you – uh – passed out.'

'And?' I sneered.

She bit her lip. 'We got into the house about then and … and … everything was … and I just couldn't … well … Mrs Forester was there. Actually … more like … what was _left _of her.'

My stomach lurched.

'Don't!' I exclaimed. Amy looked closer to tears than any other time that I'd ever seen, and I'd known her for near to ten years. I threw my arms around her at just the right moment, for she started to sob hysterically into my shoulder almost before I reached out.

'It was so horrible!' she whispered. Another sob forced its way through her lips.

'Shhh,' I told her.

'What is gonna happen to us?' she asked, fear evident in her tone.

I sighed, and said, 'I haven't a clue, Ames. I only know that, somehow, it's all going to work out fine.'

'You sure?'

'Positive.'

I took the chance to look around a bit. We were still in front of the ruined seamstress' place, which was still smoking slightly. Everything was a silent chaos of cleaning and tears. The usual when it came to pirate attacks, although I do admit that that particular attack was one of the worst.

It was then that Will's prone figure on the dusty floor came into my line of sight.

'Will!' I screamed, getting to my feet and rushing over to him. He groaned. I heard Amy's footsteps come to a halt beside me. 'Get up, you lazy eunuch!' I hissed.

His eyes opened slowly and he glared at me. 'Eunuch?' he fumed. 'Why eunuch?'

'Because I think it's very humorous,' I said, shrugging, before offering him my hand to help pull him up. 'Come on, we have to … fix things.'

He shook his head vehemently. 'They've taken Elizabeth,' he said in a low, passionate voice. 'We have to find a way to save her!'

I stared at him, barely registering as he stormed away to Fort Charles. Amy tugged on my arm and ran after him, leaving me to follow.

'What are you doing?' she demanded.

'Going to find a way to save Elizabeth!' he answered.

Amy and I exchanged looks: mine was a smug "I-told-you-so" and hers was a grimace. Then two sets of eyes widened as Will started to run off again.

'Oh, no you don't, eunuch!' I yelled, sprinting after him.

Will wasn't just strong, he was fast too (which is not a good combination at all if one wishes to chase one of such stature). By the time either I or Amy had caught up to him, he had already reached Fort Charles and was rushing across a planning pavilion.

'They've taken her, they've taken Elizabeth!' he exclaimed, slightly raising a hatchet I didn't realise he had.

Commodore Norrington, whom I definitely loathed with a passion, sighed silently, but didn't raise his head from where he was studying a large map on a table. 'Mr Murtogg, remove this man,' he ordered calmly.

Will avoided Murtogg's grasp. 'We have to hunt them down,' he insisted. 'We have to save her!'

'And where do you propose we start?' asked Governor Swann. He walked around the table so that he was closer to Will, Amy (who'd caught up) and I. 'If you have any information concerning my daughter and niece, please, share it.'

There was a pause, in which Will desperately glanced around at everything and other people twitched. I myself felt quite uncomfortable. Then I frowned … niece?

'Sir, what do you mean _niece_?' I asked, an odd ache in my chest.

'Lacey was taken with Elizabeth,' said the Governor heavily.

There was silence for a moment, then I murmured, 'Well that's not good.'

'That Mr Sparrow, he talked about the _Black Pearl_,' put in Murtogg. His friend added, 'Mentioned it is more what he did.'

And the obvious answer, coming from our dear William: 'Ask him where it is. Make a deal with him, he could lead us to it.'

'No,' sighed Norrington. 'The pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow in his cell, ergo they are not his allies.' Facing to the Governor, he told him, 'Governor, we will establish their most likely course–'

'THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!' Will yelled, slamming his hatchet into the table.

Another sigh from Norrington. 'Mr Turner,' he said exasperatedly, 'you are not a military man, you are not a sailor – you are a blacksmith.' Then he grabbed Will by the arm and led him away from the table. 'This is not the moment for rash actions,' he snapped. 'Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for Elizabeth.'

With that, he turned on his heel back to the table. Will fumed for a second, then abruptly stormed off. Amy and I shared a glance, and silently decided to follow him. I was taking my first step when a voice behind me called, 'Miss Knight!'

I faced the man who had called me and raised an eyebrow. 'Commodore?' I sneered.

He gave me a reproachful look and ploughed on, 'Miss Knight, please see fit to calm down Mr Turner.'

I gave him a curt nod.

'Will do, Mr Norrington.'

And I sped away after my closest friends.

**~M*K~**

I found the two of them in the blacksmith, Will running around the place packing things into a small pack and Amy trying to reason with him. It was obvious that he was beyond reason, but I gave her credit for trying.

'William Turner, what do you think you're doing?' I demanded, locking the door behind me and crossing my arms. He sneered at me, then went back to packing, snatching a sword from the rack.

'Going to save Elizabeth.'

'I told him he's mad,' Amy said, eyes wide. 'The pirates would cut him down in an instant, and that's only _if_ he can _find_ them.'

'I'll take my chances. Besides, I will find them.'

I stared at him incredulously. 'How?'

He smirked and pushed me aside, clicking open the lock of the door. Then he turned back, crossed the room again and picked up two blades. He threw one to me and the other to Amy.

'Jack Sparrow.'

**~M*K~**

'This is a bad idea!' I hissed as we made our way down to Sparrow's cell. Amy whimpered. 'What if he doesn't agree, hmm? Did you think of that?'

'Of course I thought of that,' replied Will in a lowered voice. 'But he will agree, because I can get him out of the cell.'

Amy gasped out, 'We're going to get caught!'

'Shhh!' he ordered. 'Come on.'

His pace became more urgent and I realised that he was crazy, mad, bonkers. _He's finally lost it_, I told myself wondrously.

'You! Sparrow!' he demanded.

The man was lying on the straw of his cell, seeming bored. As we watched, he lifted his head lazily and answered, 'Aye?'

'You are familiar with that ship, the _Black Pearl_?' demanded Will in the same voice as before.

The pirate rested his head back. 'I've 'eard of it,' he said nonchalantly.

'Where does it make berth?'

This surprised the pirate. He raised his head again, eyes wide. 'Where does it make berth?' he repeated. 'Have you not heard the stories?'

Obviously seeing that Will knew nothing of the stories, his head flopped back again.

'_Captain_ Barbossa, and his crew of miscreants, sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It is an island that cannot be found except–' he raised his fingers in a wait-for-it motion '–by those who already know where it is.' He smirked.

'Well, those cannons last night seemed real enough, therefore the ship is a real thing and must have an anchorage,' reasoned Amy. Sparrow turned his gaze to her and his smirk grew wider with appreciation as his eyes travelled down her body. I stepped in front of her and glared at him.

'True,' he agreed.

'Where is it?' I hissed.

'Why ask me?' he countered, examining his fingernails. I felt anger bubble up within me. One of my most trustworthy friends were gone and he bloody refused to answer a damned question.

Will sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he replied, 'Because you're a pirate.'

'And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?' Sparrow said, smiling.

Will gripped the bars of the cell. 'Never,' he snapped in a low, passionate voice. Sparrow shrugged, and turned away from the conversation.

Watching Will, I answered for him, 'They took Miss Swann.'

'Oh, so it is that he's found a girl,' announced Sparrow, propping himself up on his elbows. 'I see! Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart …'

Will's head bobbed up.

'… you'll have to do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me,' said the pirate frankly.

Will told him, 'I can get you out of here.'

'How's that? The key's run off.'

I grinned. 'Half-pin barrel hinges.'

Will turned to me with a question burning in his eyes. 'How the bloody Hell did you learn that?' he asked, an incredulous look plastered on his odd face.

I shrugged.

'One day, Will, you will know everything about me,' I said mysteriously. 'Until then ... deal with it.'

In all honesty, I had no clue how I knew about half-barrel hinges. It was one of those things, like the sense of freedom - it was like I knew it, but didn't. I mentally shrugged, and put my odd comment down to being around Will too much.

The pirate frowned in confusion. Will explained the half-barrel hinges thing better than I did. 'I helped build these cells. These are half-pin barrel hinges.' He pointed to the hinges. 'With the right leverage, and the proper application of strength, the door will lift free.'

Sparrow was considering it, I could see. He hadn't taken his eyes off Will or stopped frowning during the whole leverage explanation.

'What's your name?' he asked finally.

'Will Turner.'

Sparrow sat up further. 'That'd be short for William, I'd imagine? Good strong name. No doubt named for your father, eh?'

'Yes,' Will answered, eyes narrowing infinitesimally.

'A huh,' said the pirate to himself. He seemed to be thinking very quickly. Then suddenly he got up. 'Well Mr Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring me from this cell, I swear, on pain of death, I shall take you to the _Black Pearl_ and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?'

'Agreed,' was Will's answer.

'Agreed! Get me out!'

And seconds later, the man was free.

'Hurry, someone will have heard that,' Amy announced.

'Not without my effects!' said Sparrow.

'Why bother with that?' I queried. 'You could've escaped if you'd killed Will and me before, but you weren't willing to use it.'

Sparrow cocked the pistol and pointed it at my head. 'Are you advising me that was a mistake?' he asked. I didn't say anything, only loosened my cutlass from its scabbard slightly. He must've seen the fright in my eyes, because he then told me frankly, 'If you've only got one shot, it's best to wait for the opportune moment.' And with a click, he decocked the gun. I frowned at him confusedly.

'That wasn't it. Nor is this.'

There were three possibilities.

One: he was constantly drunk. Two: he was insane. Three: he was such a genius that it had turned him insane. I'm somehow getting the vibe that all three may be true.

He was Jack Sparrow, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Sneaky Peak!<strong>

'This is either madness, or brilliance,' commented Will.

'It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide,' said Sparrow. Suddenly, there was a muffled crunching sound. I looked down and saw that Will had stepped in a crate.

'Eunuch,' I snorted.


End file.
